Her Diamonds
by Angelique Daemon
Summary: Amarant reflects on why a skinny rat scares him so much.


Her Diamonds

**Title: **Her Diamonds

**Pairing:** Amarant/Freya

**Rating:** PG13 for language

**Author Notes:** Inspired by the Rob Thomas song of the same name. I had ideas not only for this, but for another fic as well, but after throwing chops, this was the one that got written. I hope you enjoy it... and sorry for the cliffhanger. Please rate and review!

I'm afraid of her. I know, I know, it's ridiculous, isn't it? Big huge, strong ass me, afraid of _her_! I mean, sure by human standards, she's pretty tall... and that slender frame is a lie, it's all whipcord lean muscle... What I'm saying is, she only _looks_ willowy and delicate, I know what she can _really_ do... But I also know that I could still snap her in half without any real effort, provided I could actually get my hands on her, which would be the real trick. So... why am _I_, giant, fierce, merciless bounty hunter slash outlaw slash murderer, afraid of lean, graceful, honorable, knightly _her_? Because fuck you, that's why.

No, that's not why, it's because she makes me feel. And I know you're thinking some stupid shit along the lines of _'Well it's only natural to feel for your companions,'_ or _'Everyone has feelings,'_ or worst of all, _'Is that such a bad thing?'_ Yes! Yes that _is_ such a bad thing, you smarmy bastards, and you know _why_ it's a bad thing? Because she's fucking _miserable_, that's why! She's fucking miserable, and it makes _me_ miserable... and it makes me want to _do_ something to help her, and there's approximately dick I _can_ do. I'm not exactly Mister 'Tell me your troubles and cry on my shoulder', now am I? Besides, if she knew I saw her, she'd be mortified, and she'd bottle it all up so no one would see through her tough girl mask. I see though... I'm more used to reading people than the others, and I see it in the lines of her body... It doesn't help that I don't sleep much. You might be wondering what that has to do with anything, so I'll tell you.

I took first watch. With that many people to stand watch, we split it up so one group stands watch one night and another group the second night, that way everyone gets a full night of sleep every other night. It's not a bad system. Anyway, I took first watch that night, and by the time last watch rolled around, I was only dozing. I'm a light sleeper... fucking shock, huh? What with me living in Treno and all. Anyway, I was dozing when I heard it. That's not to say it was loud, because she's not the blubbering type, I've just trained myself to react to soft sounds... because it might be someone trying to get the drop on you and kill you in your sleep. So that soft hitch of breath woke me up. I looked around the tent as I tried to figure out what the hell the noise was. Rusty was sound asleep, his face buried in his pillow to muffle his godawful snoring, and that wasn't what woke me anyway. I closed my eyes and listened intently, letting the relative quiet sink into me, until I could pick up the crackle of the fire inside the circle of tents... and then I heard it again. A sob.

It confused me, truth be told. I figured that the only people that would be crying were the princess and the squirt, and the former wasn't on watch that night, and the latter didn't take up a watch at all. I can be quiet when I want to, it's another survival trait. In any case, I crept to the flap of the tent, and opened it just a tiny bit. Imagine my surprise when I peered out at that strong, proud woman, on her knees, clutching at her spear like it was the last real thing in the world, her head lowered and pressed against the shaft, her shoulders shaking. I was too stunned to move, and so I just sat there and watched as she cried silently, the firelight catching in her tears as they fell like diamonds from her face, and landed on the rough, dusty ground. It... hurt to see her like that. I pawned it off as being awkwardness. I mean, the only people I ever really saw cry were people I was taking in, or their families, and what the hell did I care if they cried? Still, sitting there watching that strong, reserved woman on her knees, sobbing mostly silently against her spear... I didn't know what to do. Well, there was nothing I _could_ do, of course, but it just felt... wrong. I nearly jumped out of my skin, when she whispered, "Oh what the hell, I just can't win for losing!" and threw her spear down... not hard, so it didn't make a lot of noise, but it set my heart to racing. I was frozen, sure that she had seen me... but she just rubbed her eyes and muttered, "It's funny how the night can make you blind."

You might be thinking I'm an asshole for just sitting there and watching her, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? I mean, seeing her feel bad like that, made me feel bad too, but... well I was trying to write it off as something else, and besides that, there was nothing I could do, but continue watching her as she punched the ground, and cried softly, "Ooh, I can't take anymore!" while those diamond tears fell to the dry ground. After a moment more, I pulled away from the tent flap and returned to my sleeping bag. It was none of my business after all... Though it made me sick to my stomach to have seen that. I put it down as disgust for someone that pretended to be big and strong, but was really a spineless little wimp like the rest of them, but it bothered me... Let's just say it's a good thing no one can ever see my eyes, because avoiding looking at her would have been pretty damn obvious.

I was spared the next night, since neither of us had to sit a watch, and the night after that was quiet as well. After about a week, I was starting to think that it had just been a fluke, and put it out of my mind. With it out of my mind, I didn't think to protest drawing straws for watch shifts that second time. I was exhausted, and so was everyone else, and all any of us really anted to do was sleep. I got stuck with first watch, but it didn't really matter to me, since I needed to clean my claws before I went to bed anyway. I was more than ready to go to bed by the time the kid toddled out... and then tripped over his own feet. Hey, if I hadn't personally watched him call unholy hell down on our enemies, I wouldn't have thought him worth anything either. In any event, I dragged my ass to bed, and slept the sleep of the knackered... until a soft hitch of breath woke me up some hours later... again. I laid in the darkness, praying that it was just a dream or something, but I heard it again. Since I knew who it was this time, rather than get up, I rolled onto my side, pressed my ear hard into the pillow and then covered my other ear with my hand. It effectively blocked off the sound sounds... but then I was stuck in silence, with my mind providing the soundtrack for what was going on outside. I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but my mind is a dick. Its version of what was going on outside was worse than anything that could really be happening, so I lowered my hand and sat up. I was right and wrong... the occasional sounds I caught weren't as bad as the sobbing my mind had provided, but the long pauses between sounds made me want to hold my breath for fear of her hearing me.

I finally gave in and moved over to the tent flap again, and peered out. She was standing across the fire this time, which could very easily have given me away, if the firelight had reflected off of anything... but she wasn't even looking my way. She was staring off into the distance, somewhere between two tents, looking slightly up towards the sky. She looked like she stay like that for the long haul, but I knew I could break that concentration. It wouldn't be hard, all I would have to do would be throw something, and she'd track the sound of where it landed... but it didn't seem right. I didn't... Fuck, I don't know, I guess I didn't want to intrude, or some shit. She moved suddenly, which dove my heart up into my throat, but all she did was rub her eyes, and then sit down on the rock beside the fire, before starting to cry in earnest. She seemed... less like this. Like there was a part of her missing... I guess it was the stoic mask, but there seemed to be more to it than that. Like... she should be a lot more than just another woman crying over the loss of a man. It just seemed... wrong. But I didn't know what I was supposed to do anymore this time than I did the last time, so I closed the tent flap and returned to the bed, my chest feeling tight. If I were of the persuasion to do such a thing, I think I would have cried... but that's for women, children, and wusses, and anyone that tells you any different, is a fucking liar. As I laid back down, all I could remember was the last time I had caught, and her soft, broken-hearted voice crying out that she couldn't take anymore. I hated it. I _still_ hate it, but I can't forget it.

After that, I made damn sure I got middle or last watch. Why those two watches? Because I was too tired on either side of middle watch to wake up for soft noises, and last watch made me too tired to wake up for anything on first watch, and middle watch was usually safe, since it seemed she saved her tears for last watch. I guessed she waited until then because she didn't have to worry about anyone else being up, like on first watch, nor did she have to worry about waking anyone up and having them see the wet tracks in her fur. Still, even though I didn't have to see it, the images, and sounds haunted me. I caught them in my dreams a couple times, and hated them there. The one that pissed me off the most was where I found a cache of diamonds that constantly refilled... only to find out that they were her tears. Stupid, huh? Fucking annoying too. After a few months, I finally couldn't take it anymore.. Which kinda brings us full circle.

I got off watch, and woke her up... but I knew I wouldn't sleep, haunted by dreams of her, so I sat across the fire from her, and shined my claws, reflecting over why I'm scared of her. Ta da. I guess... I guess I'm scared of her because, and this will sound stupid, because she has my heart.. I don't know what rock she dug it out from under, or when, but she holds it in her large, four-fingered hand, and every time she cries, she crushes it... Bitch.

"Are you going to go to bed, or are you going to sit there and glare at me all night, Amarant?"

Her cultured voice broke me out of my reverie, and I scowled at her in annoyance, "Don't flatter yourself," I spat back, "I'm not looking at you." It was a lie, but since she couldn't see my eyes anyway, she'd never know.

"Bullocks," she said gently, "you're wearing your 'The rat princess is a dumb bint, and _I_ have to put up with her' look."

"I wasn't aware I had a specific look for that," I said snidely, "I thought that was my normal face," I grabbed my claws and got to my feet, intending to head to the tent and not sleep there.

"Amarant," her voice was so soft I could have missed it, _should_ have missed it, but she had some kind of invisible tether latched onto me, and it drew me up short. When I turned back around, I had the satisfaction of seeing her surprised look, since she had not expected me to hear either.

"Yeah, rat princess?"

She blinked, and then looked away, licking her lips quickly, "It's... nothing."

On a whim, I said, "If you want me to stay, just ask." That brought her gaze back to me, and I could see her confusion, even through her helm. As I looked back at her, I decided that if I was in for a gil, I might as well be in for a grand, "I'll stay up and keep you company," I said, slightly less gruffly, "But Freya?"

Her eyes widened in the shadow of her helm, and she sat up a bit straighter in surprise. Well this was probably the first time I'd actually used her name, so her reaction was understandable, "Yes, Amarant?"

"Stop wasting your tears on that man," I said flatly, "because it brings me down." I watched the shock and horror cross her face, and couldn't help but add, "You don't need him anyway, because I'm here."


End file.
